


Of Gods And Monsters

by kay_celestine



Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan
Genre: Dark Comedy, Friendship, Horror, Multi, Mystery, Mythology - Freeform, Slice of Life, Supernatural Elements, Suspense
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-05-16
Updated: 2012-05-15
Packaged: 2017-11-05 11:26:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,933
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/405875
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kay_celestine/pseuds/kay_celestine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A body may die, but a soul is immortal. At vindicta bonum vita jucundius ipsa...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Of Gods And Monsters

_Of Gods and Monsters_

_by. Kay Celestine_

_._

_Prologue_

_In The Beginning_

 

****

* * *

 

* * *

./x\\.

_"At vindicta bonum vita jucundius ipsa..."_

./x\\.

_... the blood seeped down the mountain, leaving a burning trail of tears in its wake. The regents stared with wide eyes as they watched their fate before them. Heat radiated from the thick trail of blood, destroying everything it came in contact. It radiated pain and sorrow; lust and betrayal. It radiated their pleasure, and now their pain. The regents fled from the wrath of judgment - they threw their arms around their faces as they felt the dangerous warmth graze their cheeks. The blood swayed, taking on a life of its own; it grabbed after the fleeing regents, cutting through their flesh as if they were the softest papyrus leaf._

_I watched in horror as the regents screamed, their glorious faces twisted in pain and horror. Wondrous colors of gold, emerald, azure, and the damning red swirled together beautifully , a stark contrast to the scene that was now unfolding before me. It was quite apparent that They were furious at the regents. Of course they would be, and the wonder and beauty of it was frightening. They would not smite them nor would they torture them. They would wipe them off completely and leave the most beautiful trail behind them. It was how They always worked. There was beauty in everything They did. They found no amusement in simply destroying... They have spent time in Their creation - and spent time in its destruction._

_The screams were piercing. The sounds bore through my soul like a two-edged sword. I ached for my safety and for my allegiance. To watch my former friends and family be destroyed this way was almost too much for me to bear. Their faces, oh their faces, I could almost no longer bear to look at them. But I could not look away, They were watching. They were watching to see if I would break and go forth towards my comrades. No, my former comrades. Why didn't they listen to me when I said not to, why? I knew this would happen, I should have done more to stop them. But my moment was gone, and so was theirs. There was nothing left to do but watch and cry my silent tears._

The book burned within her grasp. It was almost as if she could feel the flames emitting from within its daunting pages _,_ but she refused to put it down. If her father could see her, he would be mortified, disgusted, but frightened. He would have torn the pages from her, the only reminder of her beloved book being the words that were now etched in her mind. She could not grasp why he would not let her read this, why he would deny her something so wonderful. Forbidden was what this was. She smirked softly to herself at the irony. Her father had warned her of this book, yet like Eve, the temptation was too great to resist. It was as it was in the beginning, except there would be no downfall caused by a woman.

She found it annoying, to say the least, how some mythologies depicted women as curious creatures, that cause nothing but calamities and misfortune. Pandora had single handily began the downfall of man; unleashing the fury of the gods at them. Eve was worse in her opinion, because she had not only disobeyed the only rule that she was given, but ultimately seduced Adam into joining her in their hell. Women were seductive, curious monsters... Hm, but she supposed their was some truth to that notion. She just hated how the blame fell strictly on them though.

But could she really object? After all, thousands of years later, here she was, doing the same thing as the women before her had. However, she wasn't destroying anything though... After all, what harm ever came from reading a book. Knowledge was nothing to fear, but something to strive after. That was what her father had taught her. And she may have been a lot of things, but she knew good advice when she heard it.

She flipped the page, the candle next to her bed flickering softly. If her mother had not been away on work, she would have been severely scolded concerning the potential hazards or reading near flames. She hated it; but she hated the idea of book lights and flashlights far more. They were mockeries and did not do justice to creating the perfect ambiance for reading delightful books. Honestly, when have you ever seen someone read a book near a flashlight. They read them near fireplaces, in a darkening room, by their selves. Book clubs and reading in circles were terrible and annoying. They were useless. Want to destroy a perfectly good book, read them in a group.

The floor board creaked gently; the hollow sound echoing through the empty house. Eliza sat up on her bed, annoyed. The cat was always prowling around at nights, and was most likely trying to find an escape route from the house again. She never understood why her parents insisted on keeping the cat. If the creature wanted to leave, then by the gods, let it leave.

She slid off the bed, her feet touching the carpet ever so softly. She walked towards the door, running a hand along the light switch as she opened the door leading the hallways. She didn't have to look long for the cat, for as soon as she turned the corridor, it has sprinted right towards her. She caught it - barely, but it snuggled in her hand, something that almost never happened.

"Oh, you silly cat," Eliza said softly, the ghost of a smile etched on the corners of her mouth. Hm, maybe the cat loved them after all. She quickly and quietly walked back to her room, no trace of sound coming from her footsteps. She gently set the cat down, turning off the lights as she made her way back to her bed. In a few moments, her candle flickered once more, and the journal had resumed its position in her hands.

_The pain was quickly becoming too much to bear. I was mindful to keep my eyes trained towards the regents to show my allegiance to Them. I could feel Them watching, and I knew as I stood there, heart breaking, they were passing their judgment on me. I was thinking too much; I was allowing myself to become too vulnerable to them. They had long had me, all of us, in the palms of their hands, just as I had suspected from the very beginning, so I found it futile to try and put up any form of defense. What my mind did not give away, my eyes did. They had taken plenty from me, but they had not yet stolen my soul and being, which flickered behind my pupils. A wave of coldness pulsed through me, and I knew at the moment what their judgment was._

_With each passing moment, I could feel the coldness rushing over me in rippling waves. The icy points pricked my skin gently, tormenting me. One would never guess, but the softer and more subtle the pain, the greater the impact. Prick, prick, prick - the presiding heartbreak mixed with this new found punishment was slowly driving me to insanity. Guilt was building within me; guilt over being the last one standing... the survivor._

_It had long become apparent that They were testing me. They were more than aware of the faults and imperfections of the Regents, and I knew that there was no such thing as trust in their regards of me. It was in my nature to feel hatred towards Them over my fallen comrades - it was expected of me to turn and unleash what little power I had in a burst of fury towards Them. They knew this, I knew this, but yet I did nothing, simply staring on at the Regents demise. This did not confuse them, but merely raised Their suspicions of me. They were never fond of me; only treating me with indifference and now suspicion. I was going against what They knew and that was what burned them the most. They were being outsmarted, and They were not happy._

_I could only imagine that my demise would not be too long off in the distance. The reason I had survived this long was only because of my firm refusal to participate in the coup d'etat and by nothing but a shocking streak of luck. Luck was a fickle creature, dependent only upon Her Loveliness. She favoured me, that much was obvious, but in the end, They would pressure her into releasing me from her grasp. And she would comply... for by that time I would have lost my luster, my intrigue. She'd have grown bored._

_But despite my looming end, I was neither frightened nor in despair. Everything my heart had ever longed for and cared for was now gone; the last one my comrades had been killed. The smallest of my comrades, the infant daughter of the youngest regent, was the last to go. I hadn't even seen her end, but it was quiet. She made not a sound nor even the softest infant coo. I could only imagine that she had been spared the painful, yet glorious end that her parents, family, and other regents had met._

_They were right about one thing: I did feel an unbearable hatred welling up inside me. The pain and the agony mounting within me like the burning lava, was that the name for it?, that had melted my comrades to nothingness. At that moment, when the last of the lava had gone from the earth and settled, when the valley filled itself with a daunting silence, I vowed that I would avenge them. When my death was nigh, I would not cry, nor scream, nor object; I would accept it with a smile, for in my heart we would have our revenge. A body may die, but a soul is immortal. I would have my revenge. May it be 1,000 years, or 1,000,000 years, we would be avenged._ _At vindicta bonum vita jucundius ipsa..._

Eliza could feel the rate of her heart increasing with every word she read.

"At vindicta bonum vita jucundius ipsa..." The words sounded familiar to her- Latin most likely _._  They rolled off her tongue, so delicately, so beautifully.

How could she have been refused something so wonderful as this? The idea was unfathomable to her. She knew no limits nor boundaries. The only thing that was of any importance right now was the journal within her hand. She quickly flipped the page, curiosity coursing throughout her entirety. A small yelp emitted from her lips as she realized that the journal had ended. She turned the pages frantically, her result nothing more than blank page after blank page.

This was impossible! This could not be real! There was more of the journal, she was sure of it. There had to be! Only earlier she had counted more than 250 pages of writing, yet she had only read 200 pages. Something was not right, something was very wrong. There were no blank pages before, not a single one. Yet here there was, blank pages where writing had once resided.

Her heart pounded faster - confusion and fear gripping her. She couldn't figure it out. Had she accidentally damaged the journal, or had she confused it with another one? No, she was sure of it. There was no other journal so intricately designed, nor as old. Eliza shuffled around her bed, her hands searching every area of the soft comforter. Her father would know when he came back... her mother would know in the morning!

The candle flickered dangerously next to her bed sheets, the commotion disturbing it. The cat scratched in the background, making its escape in the halls once more. Eliza groaned softly, knowing that the price of the cat was worth far more than the journal. Still anxious, but slightly focused, she sprinted off the bed, swinging the door wide open. The cat was nowhere to be found. The wooden floors creaked softly as Eliza bounced across them, glancing curiously as to where her cat had run off to. She worried that the creature had finally found its way out of the ancient house, and out into the wilderness.

" _Eros_ ," she called softly to the cat, " _Eros_ ".

Nothing. Not even the soft scratching of Eros' claws against the wooden doors. Eliza's stomach sank and realization dawned upon her. The cat  _had_  escaped. She was sure of it. She turned the corner once more, this time in search of the stairs to the basement. The halls were dark; the lighting had been severely cut by her mother who thought that they were wasting far too much energy, especially considering both of her parents' income had been reduced drastically. Eliza had never minded before, but now, she really wished that the lights in the halls were working. That would be of much help right now in finding Eros.

She turned once more, bumping into the small table that was positioned in the corner. She cursed softly, muttering under her breath as she felt the soft pangs of pain throb in her left foot. As soon as her mother came in the morning, she was definitely going to have a talk with her. This whole idea of no light in the halls was just going to have to go. Eliza stumbled a bit more, attempting to walk out the pain in her toes, and failing. She groaned once more, realizing that she might has fractured her toes. From a little bump nonetheless! Unbelievable. This was just turning out to be a terrible night!

"Eros!" she called out once more, desperate for some form of break. Limping, she made her way towards the staircase. How she hoped that that silly cat, Eros, would be sleeping down in the basement. She gripped the railings tightly, careful not to bring any more misfortune on herself.

"Eros! Where are you gi-"

Words could never describe it - the feeling of pure dread that covers someone when they are at their end. No matter how much one could say, "They felt as if their world had stopped," it could never fully explain the despair that they felt. It can only give you an inkling of what they experienced - nothing but the vaguest idea. There was no expression, no lovely nor deep saying to convey the meaning to you. The way your heart stops pounding, leaving you almost in a state of ethereal disbelief. The light pounding of your blood against your veins, and the chill that runs through them. Can it even be called blood anymore? They way your body shakes beneath you, a violent and frightening shake. The way your mouth drains and runs dry, unable to utter even the smallest of words. The paralysis that grips you so tightly and so viciously, your breath is stolen out from your lungs.  _It is unreal_.

There was no time to even register the scene before her... The once pristine oak walls were now scarred and tainted, as if some monstrous entity had scratched its demonic claws against it. The soft light blue wallpaper were stained with the bright red of blood, which trickled softly down the sides of the wall, slowly making its way towards the floor. The carpeted floor was shredded, as if whatever creature destroyed the walls, dragged its feet against it. The furniture were in complete disarray, nothing but pure chaos before her. A small whimper escaped her lips, fear binding her voice.

Her eyes followed the trail of blood, locking themselves on the ceiling - her body reacting before her mind did. The sound could not be compared to anything remotely human. A sharp shriek welled from within her, unleashing itself in a unholy way. Fear, fright, horror, shock, sadness, heartbreak, uncertainty, regret. Everything melted together in one long, blood-curling scream.

Eliza knew the scene on the ceiling all too well. The soft curves and the harsh lines - the symbols on the book.  _What had she done?_ A droplet of blood fell from the ceiling, falling on her cheek.

There was a low growl.

She felt a harsh warmth blow against the back of neck - the warmth sending the fear through her spine and down below. She whimpered once more, a single tear drop escaping from her, sliding down her cheek and mingling with the blood.

_What have I done?_ Her father was right... she should have never touched that book. She had been lured in by its wonder, its beauty. Its forbidden pleasure was bliss to her mind. She whimpered once more, her eyes welling up. There was another growl. Was it worth it? Was this all worth it? She was no different from the likes of Eve nor Pandora. It was sweet to her touch, to her curiosity. Her father had always told her the old saying,  _"There are no beautiful surfaces without a terrible depth."_  How could she have been so stupid! Choking back a sob, she slowly closed her eyes, allowing the tears to fall freely.  _What have I done?_

There was a soft chuckle in her ears - dark, frightening, yet familiar. Her body shivered softly, her tears burning her cheeks. It was as snicker almost; mocking her, breaking her.

_"Thank you..."_

./x\\.

_"Revenge is sweeter than life itself..."_

./x\\. _  
_

__


End file.
